Love
by EbonyKittyCat552
Summary: Seeing Isaak in a moment of weakness brings about some strange but pleasant revelations for Cain


Jeez... I don't normally write things this fluffy... well, the beginning isn't really fluffy, but yeah...

Well, Isaak and Cain are probably OOC, but everyone has to cry sometimes, right? Well, I suppose it's possible that they never do, but still...

Warning: slash content, but no smexing (look up slash if you don't know what it is, cause iit's not my prob if you don't like)... I don't know, I might've missed something, but I don't think I did

Disclaimer: Cain and Isaak belong to Sunao Yoshida *sniffle* not me

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Day by day it was getting harder for Isaak to delude himself any further. No matter how hard he tried to stamp out the small flutters of hope that bloomed in his chest whenever he caught Cain in an unguarded moment, he could never quite stifle them. The best he could manage was to pretend they didn't exist and to be content with the attention that Cain paid him. Pushing for more would likely get him the exact opposite of what he wanted from the crusnik.

Besides, if Cain knew about the slightly-more-than-affection Isaak held for him, he might shy away, or might hold it against Isaak. The methuselah was not stupid enough to think that the crusnik would not take advantage of such a volatile yet influential emotion if it was in his best interests (not that he didn't already take advantage of Isaak's intelligence and endless loyalty, which Isaak could not be bothered to mind much).

No… it was much better to be content with what he had for as long as he had it. He hadn't expected Cain to love him; he never had. He just… hadn't expected to fall in love either. Such irrational emotion…

Glaring down at the sheets which his fingers curled into claws against, Isaak felt stinging tears prick his eyes. He would _not_ get upset! He would _not!_

A cool hand settled over the top of his, long fingers smoothing over his skin in a way that sent little bolts of electricity racing over his body, just from a little touch. He didn't dare look up at the blue eyes which he _knew_ were watching him. He didn't want Cain to see anything suspicious, to suspect anything.

_He can never know about this… _

Instead of relaxing under the massaging fingers, his hand tensed further, his nails ripping cleanly through the silk sheets and digging into the mattress below.

"Isaak…?" Cain sounded slightly confused. "Are you well?"

"O-of course," he ground out, forcing back the frustrated tears which wanted freedom. He didn't _cry_.

Cain hummed and leaned closer, nuzzling against Isaak's dark hair with a sound of pleasure. "You smell so sweet, mein rose." A kiss was laid against his throat and slid upwards to trace over his jaw softly.

When Cain was gentle like this, he could almost pretend the crusnik loved him back.

It was highly unusual for Isaak to display such uncontrolled emotion. Cain's blue eyes narrowed as he watched his lover glare downwards, lips curved into a heavy, quivering little frown. Hesitantly, he laid his fingers across his rose's trembling, clenched fist, tracing over the warm dips and curves, rubbing against the blanched knuckles. Isaak did not look up at him, but he could see how some fleeting emotion crossed his lover's face—he looked almost as if he'd been struck for a moment—even though Isaak thought he couldn't see, or perhaps wasn't observant enough to notice. At his touch, Isaak had only tensed further.

"Isaak…? Are you well?" He wasn't sure what was wrong with _his_ rose, but he didn't like it. He didn't like it when Isaak was broody or unhappy, which was more often than the methuselah was willing to let on.

"O-of course," Isaak replied, his voice a touch shaky. He didn't _sound_ all right. Concern made Cain's brow furrow and his lips thin… for more reasons than one. He didn't like that Isaak sounded upset. He didn't want his rose to be unhappy.

_Why should I care?_ Really… Isaak was a methuselah, yes, but hardly a being equal to Cain's power. Isaak was a weak creature that could quite easily be broken. Any time he wanted, he could rip out the methuselah's throat, could drink his blood until there was nothing but a sunken corpse left behind. He'd done it before to his servants, and he would probably to it again, but…

His eyes stared at his lover's shadowed face. There was an odd glimmer in Isaak's eyes that he didn't like at all.

Brushing the hair away (How dare it hinder his view of _his_ rose's perfect face?), he leaned down to bury his nose against the rose-scented locks. They felt like silk against his skin, or perhaps softer and sleeker. "You smell so sweet, mein rose," he whispered, allowing his lips to meet perfect pale skin, tracing the throbbing pulse of his lover's blood upwards. Everything about Isaak pulled him closer, even his lover's strange delicacy.

He saw that same stricken look flash across his lover's face again, eyes widening and glistening, ringed slightly in red. It was then that he realized Isaak was on the verge of tears. Cain sat up, more confused than ever.

_Why is he upset? I haven't done anything._ Cain didn't like it when Isaak was upset with him, nor did he like to see Isaak in pain, a first for him. Normally, he wouldn't care less about anyone or anything (except perhaps Abel sometimes, but his brother hated him with a burning passion). However, a strange tight feeling rose in his chest when he realized that Isaak was not at all happy, that something was very, very wrong with him.

_Why do you even care? He's just a toy… just a passing dalliance, something to pass the time with. It doesn't matter if he's upset…_

_…Does it?_

Cain honestly didn't know. The tightness in his chest intensified until it was nearly painful. That was almost disturbing as seeing his normally calm and collected lover so shaken. He shouldn't be feeling this way. He shouldn't feel upset just because Isaak was upset, and he shouldn't feel the need to soothe over his lover's problems and draw his attention away, but he found that he just wanted Isaak to be happy and smile for him with that kittenish grin that never failed to make his body burn.

_What is wrong with me?_

The shimmer of a tear raced down Isaak's cheek. He could see the methuselah bite his lip so hard that it bled, dripping down his chin. For once, Cain didn't have the urge to press closer and lap it away with his tongue. Instead, his heart gave a strange, foreign jolt against his ribs, as if it wanted to jump right out of his chest. Deep down in his stomach he felt a strange fluttering feeling, accompanied by a slight burn of anger, not at Isaak, but at whatever was upsetting the balance between them and making Isaak upset.

He'd never seen his second cry before. He hadn't even been sure Isaak knew _how_ to cry, but then… he couldn't say that he knew Isaak all that particularly well either. How should he know about such things? Isaak was very secretive at times, so much so that Cain sometimes wished he could read the methuselah's mind.

"What is wrong?" His fingers brushed over his lover's jaw and his trembling lips. He caught the tear at the corner of his lover's mouth and brushed it away, but he could still see the wet trail it left on Isaak's skin. "Mein rose…?"

"N-nothing," Isaak breathed out. Cain was not at all convinced.

"You can tell me," he crooned, wanting to lean closer but knowing Isaak would probably shy away if he did. "Tell me what is wrong."

His words did nothing to calm the methuselah, whose whole body was now trembling visibly. Isaak's fingers had ripped through the sheets and curled into tight fists; Cain could smell the fresh blood from where his lover's nails bit deeply into his own palms. It left slightly darker patches of crimson against the scarlet sheets.

Cain didn't like this at all. Feeling vaguely fidgety, he tried to pull his lover closer, but Isaak resisted. It was strange, because Isaak had never done anything like that before. His heart gave a little flutter, and a strange, painful feeling accompanied it. Again, he wondered why he felt so strange, why he cared so much about this stupid, fragile little creature, and why on earth seeing another in pain induced such strange reactions in his body. It had never bothered him before!

"I told you, it's _nothing."_ Isaak's reply was unusually snappish. Cain's hand recoiled slightly like a startled animal, his large blue eyes blinking. Isaak _never_ snapped at him!

"Obviously," he growled, "It's not 'nothing', Isaak."

Startled eyes looked up at him for the first time since they'd being screwing earlier, before they'd fallen asleep curled up together. Cain wondered vaguely how Isaak could stand to be so close to him in such a vulnerable state knowing that Cain could rip him to shreds with ease. Part of him—a part he was barely willing to admit existed—was flattered and slightly honored that someone trusted him that much. But now that same spot was burning with pain. What was Isaak hiding from him?

"I… It's nothing you should bother yourself with, mein Herr, truly. I d-don't mean to cause problems. I shall leave if you wish."

Had it been anyone else, Cain would have sneered and berated, but this was _Isaak_, his rose. The urge to lash out which he had had since birth was oddly dormant. The only other person that this had ever happened with was Abel when they were much younger, before _she_ had gotten in the way.

But those thoughts were shoved aside, making room for his far-more-important ponderings on why these weird things were happening to him and trying to discover why his lover was acting so strangely.

_You care for the methuselah,_ a sharp voice reprimanded in his head. _How utterly pathetic. He's nothing—_nothing_—to you._

_But he is…_ Cain didn't know where the thought had come from, but he knew it was true. He _did_ care about his rose. It was strange and foreign and not at all like himself, but he cared about this methuselah at the very least. He didn't like seeing him cry or watching him bleed unless it was by his own doing. No one was allowed to harm what belonged to him… no one but himself.

_I don't want to harm him_. His fingers reached back out, tracing the path of the single tear that his lover had failed to conceal. "I don't want you to leave," he said truthfully. "Tell me what is bothering you, mein rose."

"I…" Isaak couldn't seem to speak. His voice sounded choked.

Cain cupped his lover's cheek, forcing Isaak to look at him. The methuselah's eyes were wider than normal. He looked like a frightened animal that had been cornered by a predator. Cain frowned, not liking this either. He didn't want Isaak to be _frightened_ of him.

_Don't you?_

_No… no, I don't,_ he realized. Normally the taste of fear on the air was exciting, but this had the opposite effect. He didn't _want_ Isaak to be afraid of him. _What is wrong with me? This isn't normal_.

"Tell me…" he crooned. His heart pounded. He _wanted to know_ what was bothering his lover, and whatever it was, he would dispose of it and make sure it never made _his_ rose unhappy again. The surge of protectiveness was so strong it left him nearly breathless, and for once the monstrous _thing_ inside him did not protest. It hadn't protested his obsession with Isaak von Kampfer for some time, which in itself was strange.

"I…" Isaak hesitated again and seemed to hold his breath. Then he released it on a feathery sigh and looked away. "I love you."

Cain blinked.

The world seemed to stop going round for a second. Everything just froze. Cain wasn't even breathing.

No one—_no one_—loved him. His own siblings didn't even love him. Abel might have once upon a time, but certainly not now… not the _whole_ of him.

"What?"

Isaak flinched as if expecting a blow to accompany his slight exclamation. That, more than anything, made Cain draw back from his lover. He wasn't going to…

How could Isaak _possibly_ love him? Isaak was frightened of him, and sexually attracted to him, but _love…_ that was completely different, right? Cain didn't pretend to be an expert, but he didn't see how Isaak could love him when his own brother couldn't. After all the things he'd done—some of them even to Isaak—this pathetic creature claimed to _love_ him.

_I don't believe it._ But his heart was beating quicker, and his whole body felt oddly light. Looking back towards his lover, he saw Isaak's face downcast and shadowed, and more tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Wasn't love supposed to be a good thing?

Startled, Isaak jumped when his fingers tried to brush away the other tears. Cain didn't want them there. He didn't want his rose to be upset or crying.

"I… I…" Isaak didn't say anything else. The few tears were little leaks in the dam that held back a flood of emotion. Cain didn't even have time to move away before he found his arms full of his lover, who promptly burst into tears.

It was surreal. No one is their right mind would _cry_ in front of _him_. Even Isaak had never done anything but show complete control unless he was in the throes of passion. This was new and strange. Helplessly, Cain ran a hand down his rose's spine, wondering what he was supposed to do and why Isaak was so upset. It didn't make any sense.

All that really made sense was that he didn't want Isaak to cry. And even that didn't make sense if he thought about it.

_I care about him. Do I _love_ him?_ Cain wasn't even sure what love was supposed to be. He'd been born from a glass tube and had had only his three siblings in the entire world. To their creators he'd been nothing but an experiment, a human creation born of science to be used and abused as humans saw fit. To the rest of the world, he was a monster. The very thought that someone might actually be able to accept him, crusnik and all, was…

Insane? Crazy?

But it made his stomach fill with butterflies and do flip-flops. Despite Isaak's tears, Cain felt a satisfied smile come to his lips. _Mein rose loves me…_ A bubble of joy rose up into his chest.

Leaning downwards, he kissed away the tears and licked at the saltwater which coated his lover's face. "Stupid methuselah," he muttered. "That's not nothing at all."

He pressed a kiss to his lover's quivering lips, his own curving up in a fanged grin when Isaak's huge dark eyes looked at him with shock. He wasn't sure what love was supposed to be, but he was fairly certain that he could figure this out eventually. After all, he had his rose to take care of now, and he didn't want to disappoint _his_ Isaak.

"Mein rose," he purred, stroking back Isaak's dark hair fondly, running his fingers through it. Perhaps, maybe, he could figure this thing called love out with Isaak around to help him.

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Cain is ridiculously happy about this... Now I can right some lemony goodness over ze weekend hopefully

Review if you wish to


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